families in the sixties,
we had
a fishbowl.
a clear simple glass
bowl
with blue gravel
on the bottom,
and some
plastic shrubbery
for the
goldfish
to swim around
or through,
maybe a lighthouse
made of plastic,
too.
each day we'd come
home from
school
and drop pebbles of food
onto the water,
after scooping
out the dead fish,
never named of course,
what point would
there be in that,
a routine
we grew used to.
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